


The Promise

by RhetoricFemme



Series: Scenic World AU [14]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Levi loves his godkid so much, Mentions of Violence, Scenic World AU, Sweet and Happy Jeanbo, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 10:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17826734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhetoricFemme/pseuds/RhetoricFemme
Summary: Levi knew why. He simply didn’t want to think that Jean could possibly feel enough shame in himself that he didn’t want Levi of all people to look at him.





	The Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Before you get into the story, I just wanted to throw in a warning that the subject matter touches base on abusive relationships. If that's not something you feel you should be reading, then I wish you all the positive energy and warmth in the world.

They’re keeping warm by passing a cigarette between the two of them, looking toward the stars in lieu of making eye contact.

“I’m not trying to pull rank as his mother, Levi.”

Susan’s fingers barely touch his when the cigarette passes between them. A signal developed over the years indicating that one or both of them are entirely done with the world’s bullshit.

“I called Eld about representing Jean.” Levi’s tone is short, but familiar. “Pick anyone you think is better, but he’s the only person a rational arm’s length away I’d give my own trust to.”

Humming in acknowledgement, Susan nods, her outstretched fingers waiting to have her smoke back. They’ve been doing this since she was still in college. Ever since she walked into the law office Levi also happened to be new at. A discreet and serious legal secretary, and a too-tense Freshman lawyer with a bone to pick with most of the world.

“And I know that already.” Levi says sharply, returning to her initial statement. “He’s not my kid, anyway.”

“Don’t give me that.” Susan scoffs, exhaling her smoke into the below-freezing air. “You’re his godfather. You and Erwin both love him as if Jean were your own, and we all know he’s better off for it.”

It doesn’t change the fact that Levi’s being made to wait to see Jean. It made sense for the rest of the family to rush to Ohio the moment Jean’s roommate had called to say he’d been hurt. That his own boyfriend had been the one to do it.

“You think Jake and I wanted to leave after only two days?”

“Of course not.”

“We drove a rental car home and left ours with Bertie and Reiner. They’ll come back when they can’t afford to miss anymore school and work. Or when Jean kicks them out. Whichever comes first.”

Always so stubborn.

Levi can’t help but laugh, though nothing about it feels good. It’s the same kind of laughter he often resorted to as a child. Even sardonic, suspicion-based laughter is better than nothing for a child who’d grown up largely alone in tenement housing. Night after night spent getting acquainted with the sound of people trekking up and down the three rickety flights of stairs of their building. Learning what each set of footsteps could possibly mean, and thanking God every night he heard his mother return home.

Susan cracks the smallest of smiles. “He just wants to pretend everything is back to normal. It’s easier for him to do that if we’re up here.”

The cigarette passes back into Levi’s possession, where it gets one final drag before being stamped out underfoot.

“It is what it is.” Levi sighs, is tired of standing in the cold. Nods politely to the doorman of his building while ushering himself and Susan back inside. “I’m still calling that brat tomorrow.”

“Of course you are.”

* * *

They weren’t at an impasse, per se. Not exactly.

Both men were fully aware of the outcome this staring match would yield. Levi still buffered his cause with carefully chosen words.

“A month, Eld.”

“Yes. You’ve told me that already.”

“Four fucking weeks before he’d even agree to a video call with me because who the fuck knows why.”

Levi knew why. He simply didn’t want to think that Jean could possibly feel enough shame in himself that he didn’t want Levi of all people to look at him.

At least he wasn’t being kept in the dark like Bodt. Jean had made his brothers promise not to tell Marco the reason they’d run off to Ohio in the middle of the night all those weeks ago.

 _“Is that fair?”_ Levi had asked. At least Jean was still talking to him in the days following the incident. He’d even sounded eager when answering Levi’s call. _“You know he’ll ask after you.”_

He could hear Jean pout while thinking, much like he had as a child. _“I told Reiner to just say I needed them, and to leave it at that.”_

Perhaps just this once it was good Jean couldn’t see Levi’s face.

 _“You really did hit your head, didn’t you Squirt?”_ Jean laughs, and thank God it’s genuine. Levi tries to breathe easy. _“How do you think that’s going to go over?”_

_“I’ll figure it out later.”_

_“Uh huh.”_

_“I will.”_ Jean promised. _“I’ll be home in a few weeks.”_

 _“March Madness.”_ Levi scoffed. _“S’that time of year again.”_

 _“But maybe we go do something before the game?”_ Jean had drawled his voice hesitantly, as if asking for Levi’s forgiveness _. “Books and coffee, or something?”_

_“Yeah kid. We will.”_

They sit quietly then, each of them dominating either side of Eld Jinn’s work desk, the Thai food Levi had brought growing cold between them. 

“Alright.” Eld decides, his words clipped as he stands up from behind the desk. “I’m going to take a five minute piss. If that’s too long for you there’s some reading material on the desk until I get back.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Uh huh. But when I come back, the only thing we’re doing is eating this glorious lunch you brought, and trash-talking Bossard’s beard.”

“Fine.”

Levi has the decency to wait for his friend to leave the room. Waits for the door to click firmly shut behind the guy he’d weathered most of law school with. Afterward Levi had gone into family law, Eld to the state attorney’s office.

“ _You know he’s alright_.” Eld had argued earlier. He’d taken Jean’s case at Levi’s request, in doing so refusing payment without it being rolled into the Tybur family’s settlement. “ _Why do you need to see police photos taken in a damn hospital room?”_

_“Never been in love, have you? Or had to grieve?  There aren’t words for it, Eld. It’s one of those things that can’t be articulated, but I have to see it.”_

Levi’s never been charming with words. But part of the reason he’s a damn good lawyer is his ability to punch someone in the face with them, instead.

And so Eld caved.

The folder is light, doesn’t contain much. Jean Kirschstein’s lawsuit against Liam Tybur had taken eight weeks from start to finish. It was the first six weeks that had been the worst, as they simply entailed waiting for the initial court date to arrive. Beyond that, it had been up to Eld to make a case against a self-entitled twenty-something who could afford an impressive lawyer, but who still lacked a viable defense with the evidence stacked against him.

Jean had made Eld’s job easy, really, and that was the material which he’d set aside for Levi. Transcripts from Jean and Eren’s testimonies in court. Photographs detailing the damage done to Jean’s body at the hands of someone who had alleged to care about him.

Levi reads Jean’s testimony, can hear the words as if they’re currently coming from Jean’s mouth.

Brief. To the point, ready to move on. But he’s honest. Doesn’t sugar-coat the details or mince words, going so far as to admit that he believes it was him breaking up with Liam that had made this particular occurrence as terrible as it was.

“At least you were done putting up with his shit.” Levi whispers to himself. He stops at the end of the transcript, knows that several photos wait just beyond the statement.

Levi takes a deep breath in, holds it in contemplation. He exhales through his mouth and turns the page.

Partially healed scratch marks dug into Jean’s neck. Crescent scars left unceremoniously embedded in Jean’s chest, all paling in comparison to the hand prints welted across his arms.

Levi flips back to the police report, fixates on the physical details that in part make Jean who he is.

“Six-foot-three, one-hundred-sixty pounds, c’mon Jeanbo.”

Unwelcomed reds and violets sickeningly accented by florescent hospital lights, all of it in contrast to the faded summer tan of his skin. It was the tan Jean earned working manually every summer. Pushing and lifting, operating specially licensed equipment for his dad. None of which he ever found easy or complained about.

He’s always been strong, and Levi doesn’t doubt that this time had been no exception.

The photos correlate with everything Jean had said. Every last mark intentional, either out of anger or designed to be a derisive caricature of the sex which had increasingly come to lack any true intimacy. Liam had made the effort to not simply demean Jean’s preferences, but had used them against him out of jealously and territorialism.

None of these marks had occurred on the night Liam had shoved Jean hard enough to break bathroom tile and send him to the hospital.

When Liam had let himself into Jean’s apartment, waiting for him to exit the shower. Intent on apologizing and making it up to him. The truth, as anyone who knew Liam could attest, was that he simply couldn’t stand not having the final say.

Rejected on the spot, Liam had shoved Jean hard enough to break bathroom tile on the back of his head, leaving Jean in an angry daze, only fortunate enough for Eren to come home in the same moment that Liam had demanded Jean stand back up.

Yes, Jean had believed himself alone. Yes, he had made it clear to Liam that he needed to leave. No, he had not consented to Liam’s hands on him, regardless of the fact that, as Liam had told the world, Jean _liked it rough_.

Blood on the tile. Liam being tossed out of the bathroom. A barrage of unwanted noise as voices vied for Jean’s attention around the ringing in his ears.

It wasn’t the loss of blood or the yet-to-be-determined concussion that pulled Jean down. Rather, it had been the volume of shock and shame he felt that near pulled him under, both appreciative and bothered by Eren’s insistence he stay awake.

Relying on the lingering winter chill that kept the car window blissfully cold as he blearily listened while Eren called his parents and brothers, in doing so reconnecting Jean to the center of his world.

* * *

There’s something akin to an electric current in the air. More than the angry toeing of loafers in the doorway. Something other than the way the leather messenger bag thuds to the floor.

Erwin notices right away that Levi’s been up to something when he gets home that night. He sets aside his own work, trails after Levi on his way to the wine rack.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Levi’s posture lilts condescendingly at the question. The condescension isn’t directed at his husband, so much as the unavoidable crudity of the world.

“Jean’s head was _split_ open.”

Erwin blanches, nods.

“Bruises… all over the fucking place, and _not_ from just one night, Erwin. Everywhere.”

“Levi, stop.”

Levi’s on a tangent, though. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t listen when Erwin tries to calm him but instead raises his voice to talk over him. It’s a spitfire the likes of which Erwin hasn’t seen from him in years.

“Levi, enough!” Erwin’s hands grip at his husband’s elbows before bringing him closer, and he can just feel the way Levi continues to seethe.

“Be as angry as you need to be.” Erwin tells him, lips resting atop Levi’s head. “But don’t forget that Jean is safe now. And you’re not a child stuck in the projects anymore.”

It feels like an eternity, when in truth they stay like this for only several minutes. Levi calms under his husband’s embrace, though there’s still plenty of rage teeming beneath the surface.

Finally he pushes off from Erwin’s chest. Had anyone watched them, it would have looked near aggressive, but Erwin knows that sometimes that’s just how Levi moves.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Erwin smiles when the door is carefully shut instead of slammed closed.

“Oh, Levi.” He shakes his head. “I love you.”

* * *

For the second time on the same night, Levi shuts the front door gently. That is to say, he ensures the neighbors have nothing to complain about. Erwin is still up despite the late hour, and Levi immediately regrets giving him cause to worry.

“Everything’s fine, ‘Win. Go to bed.”

Sitting with his back propped against their tufted headboard, Erwin’s eyes flick up from his tablet. Never truly taking break from an endless number of charts and graphs. Paid work or lending his influence to worthwhile endeavors, it’s data like this that informs Erwin of the cold hard numbers that indicate how far to bend over for the board members and beneficiaries who try and kiss his ass.

“Is it?”

“It will be.” Levi states plainly, sitting on the edge of Erwin’s side of the bed. “Eventually.”

The tablet turns off, its cover shut and placed out of sight when Erwin looks his husband over. All at once firm and gentle, there are very few people in the world who could ever get away approaching Levi this way.

“Today you convinced a colleague to let you see photographic evidence of Jean’s injuries.”

“Yes.”

“Was it worth it?”

“No one ever said closure would feel good.”

“Indeed.”

He bites his tongue, knows he needs to drop it eventually, but Levi just speaks around clenched teeth, instead.

“Thirteen stitches in Jean’s scalp.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Levi presses. “Bruises everywhere, Erwin. And not just from one incident, and I want to know why.”

“Jakob said—“

Levi mockingly cuts into his husband’s words so they’re speaking in unison. “—Jean didn’t want to hurt him back.”

Were anyone else to receive the look Erwin serves, they’d have been cut down to size.

But not Levi.

“Jean’s statement said he’d refused to fight when he could diffuse the situation, instead. _Bullshit_.” Levi over-exaggerates with finger quotes to get his point across. “He’s been a pistol since day one. If Jean won’t think twice before decking some asshole on his brother’s behalf, then why wouldn’t he do it for himself?”

It almost feels fruitless talking to Levi about such matters. He’s a family law attorney, has been privy to more than one upsetting situation in his life and is essentially asking questions he already knows the answers to.

To everyone else he’s an authority. In this bedroom, he’s stripped bare. Blood-oath vulnerability with the only person Levi has ever voluntarily dropped every last façade for.

Erwin hits Levi with a look that says as much, if not more.

“Don’t.” Levi warns.

“Perhaps Jean was less willing to compromise his dignity over self-control than he was for other things.”

“That boy never cared about him.” Levi utters aloud what’s been running through his mind for far too long. “Arrogant. Aloof. I didn’t like him the single time I met him, I sure as hell wouldn’t complain if someone handed him his ass now.”

Erwin nods, doesn’t necessarily disagree.

“We both know that isn’t how things work.”

“In some places it does.”

“But not here.” Erwin argues gently, pulling back the covers on Levi’s side of the bed. “We’re better than that. And you forget one more thing.”

“What’s that, Old Man?”

“Jean didn’t compromise. He pulled the plug and got caught off guard, but he didn’t back down.”

Levi nods at that, remains quiet with contemplation. A supportive hand scratches up and down his spine from where he still leans on the edge of the bed.

“M’going to sit for a while.” It’s the most Levi is willing to concede, though he does manage to kiss Erwin’s forehead. “Quit waiting for me. Go to bed.”

* * *

Levi has never been one to half-ass anything in his life, and so it is when he mixes himself a nightcap comprised of whiskey and tea. He sips at the concoction from an old, overstuffed armchair, pretending to read last month’s news magazine. Seldom is the occasion where Levi’s brain actually shuts off, though he can at least change the subject matter to a substance he’s not directly associated with.

It isn’t long before he’s managed not only to take the edge off of all the negativity kicked up inside him, but within moments nostalgia has instead stepped in.

Tired fingers tap lazily at the cognac leather armchair, and he smiles. His mother would have loved this chair. Kuchel had never experienced such luxuries in her lifetime. It’s no trouble recalling the countless evenings his mother would come home late. Exhausted after twelve, sometimes fourteen hour days of work in order to keep Levi in Yeshiva and out of their neighborhood’s more precarious activities.

She’d passed away when Levi was only fifteen, though he liked to think that Kuchel was still watching, interceding and cognizant of every time Levi managed to succeed.

And then, Levi can’t help but think of Jean when he was small. Remembers one of the countless times Jean had spent the night at their place, tooling around the pristine luxury apartment with bug kits and magnifying glasses.

Never in his life would Levi had imagined there would be a five year old peeking over the side of his armchair while he reads.

It’s probably why Levi has never once paid mind to the Garanimal socks or occasional goldfish cracker he’d find hiding inside of it. Kuchel would have loved it.

“Find any nasty old bugs in here yet?”

Jean is a small, soft child with more vocal curiosity in him than nearly everyone Levi has ever known. Levi speaks, and Jean raises from his knees off the floor, though he ignores Levi’s question. He’s focusing on Levi’s forearm instead. “What’s this?”

Levi’s brow raises, and he sighs when catching sight of the paled skin beneath his rolled up sleeve. Jean is five years old, an only child surrounded by adults who without trying mentally stimulate and physically shelter him. As a product of that combination, he’s more than careful when tracing a plump little finger to the side of the raised pink skin on Levi’s arm.

“That. Is a scar.”

“What did you do?” Jean is cautious while staring, examines the anomaly with his magnifying glass, discovering the scar is similar to the length of his finger.

“Got into a fight.”

“When? Was it yesterday?”

“No, Jeanbo. I think I was nine at the time.”

Jean considers this carefully, has no way of understanding that a one-way alteration can hardly be considered a fight. He couldn’t possibly digest any reason for why the wound had come from a knife.

“Nine year olds aren’t supposed to fight like _that_.” Jean pokes the scar. “Does it hurt?”

Levi can’t help but smile. “No, Jean. It doesn’t hurt.”

It isn’t nearly as flippant as it seems when Jean runs off after that. When he returns a second later, Levi hears the difficult crinkle of a wrapper.

Jean’s little face peers over top of the chair again, only this time he’s brought provisions.

“Is that a dinosaur?”

“It’s a triceratops.” Jean explains, sounds like he’s about to launch into the dino trivia he’s become notorious for while he places the bandaid with precision and care.

Levi is not so mature that he won’t resent this wonderful child for making him as emotionally compromised as he does.

“Thanks Squirt.”

Jean doesn’t say anything, but instead kisses where the bandaid lays. Rests his head on the arm of the chair with a yawn.

“I think it’s time for bed.” Levi says gently.

It’s the wrong thing to say. “Your face is ready for bed.”

“Uh huh.” Levi allows the child his pout, obliges when he crawls into Levi’s lap and tries to cover both of them with a toddler blanket he still insists on carrying everywhere. “And if tomorrow I hand back a sleep-deprived monster, you can bet your mom and dad won’t let you spend the night ever again.”

Jean isn’t listening. He’s managed to fit all of himself beneath the little comforter, is busying himself finding a comfortable spot in Levi’s lap while staring at the blank tv screen.

“Put on something appropriate for me?”

“It’s eight-thirty in the evening.”

“I like Ninja Turtles.” It’s unclear whether Jean is catching onto Levi’s insinuations, or choosing to simply create his own reality instead. “You won’t get in trouble. Daddy told Susan you take really good care of me, then she told Daddy that she already knows.”

There’s no hiding his smile, then. It’s not as if Jean is going to tell the world Levi Ackerman has a soft spot. That there are some times in his private life absolutely worth fighting for.

“Don’t call your mother Susan, and I’ll let you watch television.”

Jean thinks about it. Weighs the pros and cons in his little blond head before he gives another yawn.

“Fine.” Taking up the corner of his blanket, Jean pulls until it covers the bandaid on Levi’s arm. “Warm?”

“Yeah, Brat. I’m warm.”


End file.
